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Showing posts from September, 2007

Kents HIll & Full Monty

Saturday morning I had to drive north to Kents Hill to a private academy there. I was presenting with a Maine State Trooper, Roderick Charette (he was cute). Before this, though, I do my homework and searched on Myspace and Facebook to see how many students had too much info in their profiles. I also sent friend requests on Facebook to see how many students would add me as a friend without asking who I was. I had 22 add me, no questions asked. One student, a 16-year-old boy I'll call BT, decided to email me. This is the exchange over the course of three days before my presentation: BT: hey who this just wondering i will add u if u tell me about ur self not beign a bitch just asking who u are thats all ans how old are u ur pretty hottt lol Me: Thank you for the compliment, LOL. I work for the University of Maryland but live in southern Maine was looking for some folks in Maine to add as friends. BT: ohh kool how old are u maybe we could meeet up some time and we could idk w.e u want

Marie Claire Magazine looking for victims for cyberstalking article

From the writer: Writer for national women's magazine is looking to speak with female victims cyberstalking or cyberbullying--preferably those in their late twenties and early thirties. Especially interested in online cases that eventually went offline into real life. If you're available to chat on the phone with this writer sometime before 9/27/08, please email Cara at cara_birnbaum@yahoo.com.

Is it a frelling full moon!

I get some weird emails at WHOA (my organization). I just had to post this: I'm going to tell him to return his keyboard for a new one. Sigh. Below is the result of your feedback form. It was submitted by Benjamin T. Wadkins on September 15th, 2007 at 11:15AM (EDT). realname: Benjamin T. Wadkins comments: In explaining how to send a Header t Yahoo.om Your Instructions First line say to veiw E-Mail & hit Foreward button----I Don't have a foreward button on my keyboard?

Media Request

You can respond directly to her (just let me know if you do): I am working on an article which looks at online crimes people may be committing without realising it. Online bullying/harassment where people post nasty things about co-workers/ex-partners and bosses has come up as one these examples. Can I speak to someone who has had nasty comments, nude pictures or embarrassing videos posted online about him or her by co-workers or an ex-boyfriend or girlfriend? I would really appreciate speaking to this person anytime tomorrow or early on Friday. I can change his or her name if he or she wants me to. Thanks for your help Trudy Simpson Journalist The Voice Newspaper Northern and Shell Tower Selsdon Way, Docklands London E14 9GL Tel: 0 (44) 2075100383 Email:trudy.simpson@gvmedia.co.uk

911 Coincidence

I was checking my Myspace profile and today I have 911 friends on my list. Like I could ever forget what happened today in 2001. God Bless America.

Labor Day Weekend

Saturday was busy. Rob, my construction guy, arrived at 1130 am to do more work downstairs. He's been away for a couple of weeks. He broke up with his girlfriend and she's giving him a lot of grief. Plus he's working three jobs with his regular construction job. So he's stressed out big time and feels guilty he hasn't been able to work here. I told him to take his time. I'm not in a hurry to get it finished and besides, I like having him over. He's not hard on the eyes (ha ha). Seriously, he's a nice guy, a Marine like my husband was, he lived on Okinawa the same time we did, so we get along well and enjoy a beer or two when he's done working and just talk. I think he needs someone to talk to anyway. He did get a lot done - the walls of the bathroom downstairs are up, he stained some more of the doors and trim for the doorways and cleaned up a bit. He does very good work. I keep telling him he should just go off on his own and have his own business.

Melancholy

Yesterday would have been Chris' 41st birthday. A friend from Massachusetts spent the morning with me, then I drove to the cemetary alone. The sun had just broken through the clouds. I had a small Marine Corps flag that I put in the ground at the head of the veterans plaque on Chris' grave, told him, "Happy Birthday, Chris," then burst into tears. I sat in the car for a while. It was funny, in a weird way. Rob sent me a text message that he had picked up the door for the bathroom going in downstairs and asked when he could come by to finish up some things. He was a Marine, too. But he had no clue it was Chris' birthday. Weird timing. It made me cry more. I called V2. She was working and was worried about me being alone. My other friend, Robin, was home, so I called her and she said she'd be at my house by the time I got there. I got home, she arrived with some Smirnoff Ice and we talked for a while. V2 arrived an hour later and we all talked some more. I have